


My Sister, The Inquisitor, And Me

by cyrdus



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Art, Character Study, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I have 3 lavellans, Multi, Slow Burn, i'll add more tags as the subjects appear, ok?, so its still in its infancy stage essentially, they're siblings, this is a passion project i've had bouncing around my head for about a year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 06:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17239205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrdus/pseuds/cyrdus
Summary: Cullen ripped the hood off of the would-be assassin. He began his routine questioning with a sigh. "Did you really think it would be that easy to get into the Inquisitors bedchamber?" he wondered aloud, trying to mask his amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Just by waltzing through the front door in the dead of night?"The assassin looked up at him, and it wasn't until now that he realized there was something... eerily familiar about her face. His stomach dropped as he realized who exactly she looked like, and his blood turned to ice when she spoke."I'm not an assassin, asshole," she spat. "My name is Samahl Lavellan, and the Inquisitor is my twin sister"





	1. A Lesson, A Battle, and Pride: Samahl

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! I am so excited to finally be doing this. I've had these OC's for over a year and I finally worked up the nerve to put their story into words. Each chapter is going to be from the perspective of one of the siblings, Faye (the inquisitor), Samahl (her fraternal twin sister), or Adras (their sweet baby brother) (who is only three years younger than them). I also! do art! and will be including as much as possible. as you can see below, I've drawn a lovely family portrait of my babies. anyway! the fic will mostly be about these three, as they learn and grow and fall in love and fight a would-be god. I'll try and update once a week! 
> 
> You can find me on instagram also: https://www.instagram.com/cyrdus/
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

 

Dodging and weaving, the rogue managed to evade confrontation, moving through the crowd of warriors like a snake through water. As she finally reached her true adversary, she noted his ironbark armor was showing the signs of battle- worn, dull, and hopefully weak.

She lunged forward to attack his flank; her legs and arms screaming at the sudden movement, but after having been at this for hours all she wanted was it to be over. Sensing her at his side, he managed to parry at the last moment, causing her to lose her sense of balance and fall to the ground like a stone.

She rolled over, in an attempt to regain her bearings and perform another attack, but he was one step ahead of her. His knee was on her chest, his arm outstretched to pin hers down, she was left defenseless. He smiled down at her, winked, and let her go.

“That makes me the victor once again, dear sister,” he said, amusement and laughter in his eyes. “Looks like you’ll have to go through your Proving one more time”

She stood up, brushed the dirt off of her trousers, and with all of the emotion she could muster in her exhausted body told him to fuck off.

__________________

 

Samahl Lavellan felt very much like a late bloomer. When she was a child, she thought she had all the time in the world to establish herself as a mature elf. Her twin and her brother had been equals in her eyes, living a relatively carefree life with her and always being by her side.

After their parents perished in the Blight, however, things changed. They were forced to adapt-- Faye became the new first to the Keeper, Adras took his mother's’ place in the clan’s group of hunters, and Samahl was left wondering what she did wrong. Before she knew it, both of her siblings possessed their _vallaslin_ , the delicate markings of Mythal and the bold of June’s decorating their respective faces. Samahl, however, still looked like a child, face bare.

She had tried to prove herself by becoming the apprentice to the craftmaster; though that relationship was tarnished due to her short temper and tendency to throw whatever she was holding when frustrated. She had tried with the Halla mother, who again rejected her when she caught Samahl trying to mount one to go on a joyride.

Now, she was trying to prove herself with the clan’s hunters by besting her baby brother in combat. Which, to her dismay, was not nearly as easy as she assumed. He was not the crying child she remembered wrestling with in a grassy field so many years ago, but was instead a formidable opponent well versed in strategy. And it pissed her off.

“I don’t understand why you’re so focused on your _vallaslin,_ Mahl!” Faye had just entered their aravel, followed by the sharp stench of lyrium, when she noticed her twin tending to the cuts and bruises she had gained earlier that day. “I had to get mine much earlier than most to be respected as First, and nobody expected Adras to possess such a natural skill at fighting.”

“Oh, hearing about how my little brother is a prodigy is going to make me feel _so_ _much better_ about having my ass handed to me.”

“Well, I think you’re just being negative, and you should focus on finishing up your lessons with Hahren, and not…” she paused, gesturing broadly to her sister, “whatever inferiority complex is going on here.”

“Inferiority complex? Excuse me? Do I need to remind you about that time I caught you _covered_ in-”

“That was one time! And we were ten!”

“Regardless, I have nothing to feel _inferior_ for. Just because you and Adras seemed to magically turn into boring old adults overnight, doesn’t mean I’m still a brat.”

Faye sighed. “Adras and I are just trying to fill the void left by… Well. You know. It’s not like we’re that happy about this either.”

Samahl glared at her, and turned away. Perhaps she was being unreasonable, maybe she _did_ feel spurred to get her markings because her siblings were unnaturally talented… In the end, however, she was stubborn and angry and there was no way she was going to admit that to her know-it-all twin. She finished applying the elfroot to her wounds and got up from the chair she was occupying.

Finding comfort in the thought of being unconscious, she climbed into her bed and pulled the layers of furs over herself as high as she could. She then turned her back to her sister, closed her eyes, and willed herself to sleep. Maybe tomorrow a giant would attack their clan, and only Samahl could kill it. Her peers would parade her around and chant her name, admonishing themselves for ever doubting her. She was lulled into a deep sleep by what seemed like a fantasy that could only be fulfilled by the Fade.

__________________

 

 _Fate has a funny sense of irony_ , Samahl thought, as an arrow flew past her with its telltale _thwip,_ barely grazing her right cheek. Rearing her head in the opposite direction, she took a deep breath and faced the templar in front of her.

Faye was sprawled about 20 feet behind her, mana completely drained by the unforeseen attack. Samahl silently thanked the Creators that she was still breathing. They had been out collecting herbs, a truce after their spat the previous evening, when they had accidentally stumbled upon a small templar encampment. The templars noticed Faye’s staff before she could cast a barrier, and she was out within seconds.

Samahl looked around, and realized they were much too far from camp to call for help. _Looks like I have to face this one on my own,_ she thought. _What were they doing this far into the wilds? Don’t they have all of their mages kept in a prison?_ The questions buzzing around her mind would have to wait for later, as she was currently preoccupied with keeping her head attached to her shoulders.

There were three of them- two archers and a warrior. They smelled intensely like dogs, and Samahl wondered how she and Faye had been caught unaware. The humor in the thought of a dog wearing armor would have to wait until later as well, as she saw the templar lunge forward.

Intercepting the blow with one of her daggers, she used the momentum to sidestep; she had to keep moving to make herself a harder target for the arrows to find. Ducking low and swinging her left arm forward, the templar took the bait and moved his shield to parry- just as she brought her right arm up to plunge her blade into the weak point where the knights helmet met his pauldrons. His lifeblood was hot and sticky, but she held back her desire to retch as she now focused her attention on the archers.

Zigzagging towards one, she lunged forward and slashed at his calf. The momentum caused her to stumble, void take her, but luckily she didn’t fall on her ass again. _Perhaps the Creators were watching out for me after all,_ she thought. Samahl made quick work of the archer once he was down, and the other one followed not long after.

She rushed over to her twin, performing a whole body glance to make sure nothing was immediately wrong. Once she decided it was safe to move her, she hoisted Faye up over her shoulder and ran as fast as she could back towards their clan.

__________________

The stars had begun to hang in the late evening sky as Samahl shivered against the cool breeze sweeping in from the east. She was cold, hungry, and covered in blood, but she refused to move from outside of the Keeper’s aravel until she knew Faye would be alright.

Adras had wordlessly joined her not long after she had explained to the Keeper what had happened, most likely hearing about the state of their sister from the scout Istimaethoriel sent out to gather more elfroot. It seemed endless, the waiting, but she was comforted knowing Faye was in good hands.

Adras turned to her, the ghost of a smile on his lips despite the grim situation. “So,” he started, “you really took out three templars by yourself?”

Samahl glared at him and punched his shoulder. “You really think I would allow them to harm my beloved sister and go down without a fight?”

“All I’m saying is that perhaps you don’t need to go through your Proving again. Maybe you’re ready.”

She snorted, turning away to hide the smile growing on her face at the thought that she would finally feel like an equal once more.

Though the smile soon disappeared, replaced with a gnawing sense of fear, as Keeper Istimaethoriel finally stepped out of the aravel.

“She’s going to be fine, in no small part because of how quickly you acted.” The kindness in her smile almost masked the exhaustion in her eyes. “However, I don’t recommend stumbling upon any more templars for at least a month.”

Samahl and Adras both released the breath they didn’t realize they were holding and the keeper placed her hands on both of their shoulders.

“I fear that the tension between the mages and templars in the human cities is spilling over. I expected as much, but I did not expect it so soon. Adras, collect the hunters and tell them to prepare to move. We depart at dawn.”

Samahl looked towards the Keeper, hoping for her own task to accomplish, desperately wanting to be seen as someone who is as capable as her siblings. The Keeper looked back at her, and she noticed a nostalgic look in her eyes; it seemed as though Istimaethoriel was thinking back on some distant memory. “Now, I need to talk to _you_ about something important as well, don’t I?”

“I was happy to help, Keeper, had I not been there I can’t imagine what they would have done to-”

“Not about that, child, I think we all know how dire the situation could have been. I think you are ready for your _vallaslin.”_

Samahl nodded, and used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears beginning to burn at the edges of her eyes. Inadvertently, she also managed to wipe templar blood all over her face. Gross. Regardless, she was filled with a sense of exuberance, relief and pride filling her and almost knocking her over. She was stubborn, and had a knack for intentionally creating chaos, but she was Dalish. She was proud of her heritage and honored to partake in the centuries old ritual.

That night, despite everything, it was not difficult for Samahl to find sleep. She was drawn to the fade effortlessly, and woke up thinking that perhaps for the first time in a long time, things were going right.

__________________

Years after the fated templar encounter, long after the lines of _vallaslin_ had healed on Samahl’s face, she was awoken from her sleep by the sharp noises of whispers outside her aravel.

Her stomach sank to her knees as she edged closer to the doorway to overhear the conversation between Faye and their Keeper. She couldn’t make out much yet, but the tone and the sense of _urgency_ of their conversation told her something was amiss.

“Faye, I know this is asking a lot of you, and I know this will be a difficult decision,”

“Keeper, please, you know I would do anything for the clan-” the seriousness in Faye’s voice made her heart clench.

“Which is _exactly_ why I’m coming to you. I have others I am considering for this, so if it is too much, tell me. I don’t want to force anything onto you.”

“Well, it would probably help if I knew what the task was…”

There was a pause, and the Keeper took a very deep breath. Samahl could picture the weary look on her face and the deep set wrinkles lining her tired eyes.

“I need you to go to Ferelden. Alone. And be my spy at the Conclave being held between the mages and templars.”


	2. An Embarrassment, A Fear, and A Letter: Faye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some canon events with a little more flavor :^)

 

She had yet to write to her clan. To her _family._ She knew they had probably already received word about what had happened at the Conclave, and that by not writing them she was doing more harm than good, but every night when she returned to her quarters she was just too exhausted _._

If the drain of fighting off templars and apostates wasn’t tiring enough, she also had to face waves of demons pouring out of tears in the gods damned veil. Thinking of the looming task of closing the breach only drained her more, and every evening the moment she stepped through the flaps of her tent she collapsed.

The only reprieve came from the conversations she had with Solas. He was strange, stranger than any other elf she’d ever met, but his perspective on spirits and the Fade was endlessly fascinating.

She tried not to mind that he was occasionally condescending; while she didn’t know how old he was exactly, she’s sure he saw her as some sort of inexperienced child. She was well on her way to thirty, certainly closer to that than to being a teenager, but she _was_ coming from a clan who had done its best to shelter her.

He was walking by her side now, comfortable silence having settled between them after a lull in their conversation. She was happy to be in the Hinterlands, the dense forest and rolling hills reminding her of home. Enough to make her heart ache for those still there, especially her siblings.

She let her mind wander to Samahl and Adras. By now, she had been gone for about a month, seemingly spirited away overnight. Their goodbyes had been heartbreakingly short, stifled by the urgency of her task.

A task which had ended up affecting her much more than she assumed it would. She tried to think what it would be like to have her twin with her. Faye was much quieter than her sister, water to Samahl’s fire. Or perhaps earth? She had always felt the most at home when she could feel soil on her feet and hear the trees rustling in the wind. When she was grounded.

Samahl, on the other hand, could never do anything fast enough; never take the time to appreciate what was around her. She consumed everything in her life like a wildfire, passionate and vibrant. Though if they shared anything, it was their sense of loyalty and duty. Once they committed to a task, there weren’t many things that could keep either of them from accomplishing it. And this task certainly was asking for quite a bit of commitment.

Faye glanced down at her marked hand, the gash in her flesh rippling and shining even in broad daylight. It didn’t hurt anymore, thank the Creators, but it still set her on edge if she thought about it too long.

As if sensing her anxiety, Solas finally spoke. “So,” he mused, glancing at her hand. “You are the chosen of Andraste, blessed hero sent to save us all.”

Faye, thankful for the distraction, huffed a laugh and looked incredulously up at her fellow mage. “Am I riding in on a shining steed?”

“I would have suggested a gryphon, but sadly they’re extinct. Joke as you will, posturing is necessary.” He smiled at her and then gazed into the distance, looking almost forlorn before masking his expression with indifference. “I’ve journeyed deep into the Fade and ancient ruins and battlefields, to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I’ve watched as hosts of spirits clashed to reenact the bloody past and ancient wars both famous and forgotten.” He turned towards her now, a light in his eyes only present when speaking about the Fade. “Every great war has its heroes. I’m just curious what kind you’ll be.”

Faye took a moment to process the question, thinking first of her family back in the Free Marches. She looked up at him and admitted, with more emotion than she intended, “I just want to be someone who can keep those I love safe. If I sit back and watch as this… _mess_ spreads and affects those I cherish, I could never live with myself.”

She held his stare for longer than she thought she would, until he finally looked away and nodded. “I will stay then, at least until the breach has been closed.”

“Was that in doubt?”

“I am an apostate mage, surrounded by chantry forces, and unlike you, I do not have a divine mark protecting me.” He smirked then, at the obvious danger of his situation. “Cassandra has been accommodating, but you can understand my caution.”

Faye looked at him once more, for the first time considering the disparity in how they may be treated. “You came here to help Solas,” she said, kindness in her eyes. “I won’t let them use that against you.”

“How would you stop them?”

The question gave her a familiar feeling of dread; she was used to being taken advantage of because she was small, a woman, an _elf_ . How _could_ she stop someone who inherently saw her as inferior? Her vitriol shone through as she stated plainly, “However I had to. I will not stand by and watch, as I could not just allow things like that to happen.”

Solas was obviously taken aback by her answer, eyebrows raised and smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. She silently cursed herself for being so blunt with him, and hoped they could both pretend it never happened. But instead, he looked at her for the first time with a new expression, subtle like all of the others, but much softer than any of the ones she’d been shown so far. “Thank you,” he said, and she was surprised to find that the tips of her ears and her cheeks burned as they flushed.

Looking anywhere but at his infuriatingly bald head, she heard him speak once more. “But now, let us hope either the mages or the templars have the power to seal the breach.” She felt his stare lift from her, as he walked forwards to initiate a conversation with Seeker Pentaghast.

Faye was silently cursing herself once more, embarrassed for feeling like a teenager who had just gotten her first crush, when she saw Varric step beside her.

“I have to say, I wouldn’t have pinned _bald_ to be your type,” he said, smirk plastered across his face.

She rolled her eyes and scowled at him, but there was no venom behind her glare. No, in fact, she was smiling like a fool for the rest of the day.

__________________

 

At times like these she truly envied the other mages in her party. In the thick of battle, whether they were fighting humans or demons, Faye lost all sense of grace. She could not pull on the fade as effortlessly as Solas did, nor could she perform her spells with flourishes and theatrics like Lady Vivienne.

She felt like she was desperately trying to keep her head above water, though in this case the risk of drowning was considerably less than the risk of being stabbed. Her mind kept going back to Solas telling her that posturing was necessary, and as her face heated up with a now familiar flush, she scolded herself for caring so much about what others thought.

Though posturing was almost impossible in her current situation, as she and her companions struggled to seal this particular rift. It wasn’t the only time they had dealt with one that warped time, though the first one was only hours earlier. And then there was the strange mustachioed man who was fighting alongside them, and though she had taken an immediate liking to him, she was still wary. After they had managed to push back all of the demons, their shrieks still ringing in her ears, she sealed the rift.

Before she could check that everyone in her party was unharmed, she was bombarded with questions by this mysterious stranger; many of which she didn’t get the chance to answer before he started a new one. By the end of his monologue, she was smiling at him, one brow arched incredulously.

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you as well. You’re _very_ welcome for helping you close that rift by the way. My name is Faye Lavellan.” She held out her hand to him, trusting him more after seeing herself in his insatiable curiosity.

“Ah, getting ahead of myself again I see,” He took her up on her offer of a handshake, smiling back with just as much warmth. “Dorian of House Pavus, most recently Minrathous. How do you do?”

Her stomach immediately dropped, her mood turning sour. _Now_ that _is reason to give me pause,_ she thought, taking her hand back quickly. _We’ve traded with humans in the Marches who have spoke of how they treat elves in Tevinter._ She looked back over him, all of the mirth gone from her face, and began to question what he was doing and why he was there.

After the arrival of Felix, everything started to fall into place; the Venatori, the time magic. Though Dorian had tried to joke with her at times, she had returned his volley with cool indifference. Let him prove himself as an ally to the Inquisition first, and then she would see how he stood on the enslavement of her people. By the time the two men had excused themselves, the night had proven to be surprisingly more tiring than usual, and her head was full of questions that would have to wait until much later to be answered.

________________

Returning to Haven didn’t help improve her mood either, as she had found out that Alexius had personally invited her to Redcliffe castle; a castle which, if Commander Cullen was to be believed, was impregnable. She had asked to be dismissed for the night about an hour into the meeting, overwhelmed by the infighting between the advisors. She was mentally and physically on her last legs, drained and ready for the sweet embrace of the Fade.

As luck would have it, she bumped into the friendliest dwarf she’d ever met on her way back to her quarters, and he just so happened to have a host of questions about her mission that day. Forcing herself to smile, and not scream like she so desperately wanted, she answered his queries as best she could. Her exhaustion must have shown through her mask, however, because Varric’s grin soon dropped.

they were sitting now, around the fire he had seemed to claim as his designated location in Haven, when he paused and asked, “Hey, kid, are you alright?”

She was surprised to find tears welling in her eyes.

Faye realized that was the first time somebody had asked her that. She looked up at him and braced her arms around her knees. _I’m essentially in the fetal position,_ she thought, though the image of the blessed Herald of Andraste being a crying babe did nothing to lift her spirits.

“I’m so tired, Varric,” she whispered. “I have been taken from my clan, forced into a world I don’t understand, cursed with a mark that will kill me,” she began to shudder now, face growing hot and red at the embarrassment of one of her companions seeing her like this. “I have nobody here I can speak with plainly, I hate the smell of the chantry, I _especially_ hate being called the Herald, and last week a spider crawled into my mouth as I slept.” She felt the comforting weight of his hand on her back, as she allowed herself to cry. “I miss my sister and brother, and I just want to go _home.”_

Varric, bless his heart, said nothing. He nodded, stroking her back in soothing circles. After she had calmed down and the crying subsided, he spoke.

“You know, I used to travel pretty frequently with a Dalish elf,” he said softly. “She was like a kitten. Or, perhaps a lost child. Something about her made me want to _protect_ her, and at one point I had actually given her a ball of twine so she could find her way home every night.”

Faye laughed at that; a watery and weak laugh, but one nonetheless. “Was she truly that incompetent?”

“Oh Daisy? No, never. She was too trusting and too damn _giving_ but she could smell if shit was wrong from a mile away. She’s still in Kirkwall, helping rebuild. The Alienage is lucky to have her.” He stood up at that, brushed the dirt off his trousers, and looked back at her before saying quietly, “You remind me of her. You seem like the type to think that you have to solve everyone’s problems… and to forget that you’re not the only one who can kick ass”

With a smile, he was gone. She sat there for a while longer, looking into the fire; something about the glow of the embers reminding her of her family. She was brought back to a distant memory, almost forgotten with time. Right after their parents had perished, she had taken it upon herself to become the new head of her family- Adras was just barely out of childhood and Samahl too flighty to handle the weight of that responsibility.

Faye had become cold and distant, not allowing herself to grieve because of the notion that she had to be strong for her siblings. It wasn’t until they had surprised her by cooking dinner and telling her to rest for the night that she realized how heavy the burden had been. She had cried, for the first time since their parents had died, that same night. And after that, she noticed a new sense of maturity in both her twin and baby brother, and no longer felt the weight that had plagued her so.  

She stood then, and with a newfound sense of resolution, walked with purpose towards the modest hut that had been assigned to her. As she entered her quarters, and instead of collapsing, she headed straight towards her writing desk. Dread Wolf take her, she was going to write this letter even if she had to stay up all night.

Several hours and several drafts later, she concluded what she thought was a concise and practical letter to her siblings. The next morning, she stopped by Leliana’s tent, handed her the scroll and began her day feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, dorian is one of my favorite characters and Faye's distrust won't last that long. though boy is she in for a ride! if she's overwhelmed now, she'll absolutely lose it later! haha. oh well. who knows how it will turn out, right?


End file.
